


But She's Kind

by SincerelyV



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Brooke cares a lot about people, Gen, Mild Injury, She just really wants to help guys, but it's very nondescript, she just doesn't always know how to show it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-17
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:20:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22250062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SincerelyV/pseuds/SincerelyV
Summary: The first time Brooke met Jeremy was while helping him hobble to the nurse’s office after getting nailed in the face with a dodge ball.
Relationships: Jeremy Heere & Brooke Lohst, Jeremy Heere & Michael Mell, vaguely - Relationship
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	But She's Kind

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "She Used To Be Mine," from Waitress, because it was stuck in my head the entire time I was editing this.

The first time Brooke met Jeremy was while helping him hobble to the nurse’s office Sophomore year after getting nailed in the face with a dodge ball by Rich Goranski. His face, she remembers, had been a swollen red that rivaled the blush her grandma wore and was masked only by the bright blue ice pack the nurse had ended up giving him.

This wasn’t the first time Jeremy had left gym early, not by a long shot. But Brooke knew it was the first time he’d gone without his friend, Malcolm, or Michael or whatever, in years. She was pretty sure the two were glued at the hip with the way they acted. When she thought about it, Brooke wasn’t sure if it was possible to split them apart for very long. So, when Ms. Ambrose had asked for one of them to walk Jeremy down when his friend was nowhere in sight, her hand had shot up before she could stop herself.

(Later, when Chloe would ask why, she’d shrug her shoulders, unsure. All she knew in those split seconds was that no matter how alone he always seemed, that was the first time she had ever seen Jeremy Heere look _lonely_.)

The short walk down the hall was one of the most awkward two minutes of Brooke’s life. Rich’s dodge ball had skewed Jeremy’s glasses to one side as he had gone down and now sat cracked in his hand. He kept them tucked out of sight, but the glimpse Brooke did manage tells her he won’t be wearing the pair again- if ever- anytime soon.

The thought makes her wince. No one deserves to be on the receiving end of Rich’s wrath, especially someone like Jeremy. Someone who can’t- or won’t, maybe- fight back, no matter how hard or many punches got thrown his way.

At the start of the year, before Rich had carved out his spot with Brooke and the others, she remembered how happy Jeremy and his friend had always seemed. It didn’t seem to matter to either of them how the other kids whispered, they had each other and that was all they needed. But now, she could tell the whispers were more like screams. Constant shouts that made Jeremy curl in on himself as if he could deflect every insult hurled his way by hiding in his hands.

He does it now, too, she notices. He keeps his arms wrapped tightly around his torso with his head tilted down. Part of it, she knows, is to make sure he doesn’t trip over his own feet, but it doesn’t help the closed off feeling that surrounds them the whole way. She wants to tell him she's not like that, not like her friends, she would never want to _hurt_ him. But she can only picture the past semester as she watched what her friends did and how she did nothing. Just stood there and watched, laughed even. 

She glances over again. Jeremy's head is tilted inward, effectively blocking her out. His glasses are still hidden between his fingers, she's not sure how well he can see, but he doesn't complain. Something withers inside her.

Sighing softly, Brooke folds her arms across her chest and keeps walking.

They reach the office and the rest turns to a blur, an ice-pack is settled against his eye and parents are called, but, for a reason Brooke can’t quite place, she stays. They don’t say much, Jeremy mostly clings to the ice pack while Brooke plays with the sleeves of her sweater as they sit shoulder to shoulder on the bench in the hall.

No one has come to bring him back into the office and Brooke can’t quite bring herself to leave yet. He’ll be fine, she knows that. Jeremy isn’t _helpless_ , after all, he can handle a visit to the nurse. But then, she pictures the ball connecting with his head again, Rich’s smirk, and all the times she did nothing. She doesn’t move, doesn’t speak. 

It was a moment of impulse, she’ll tell herself later.

There's a brief pause, a moment in which time grinds to a halt and Brooke rethinks all her life choices. Every thought that crosses her mind is swiped away, replaced instead by _oh_ , that’s unusual as she attempts to decipher exactly what force convinced her to reach out and squeeze _Jeremy Heere’s_ hand in an empty hallway. There’s nothing special about it, no underlying feelings or attempts at awkward romance, it’s just pure impulse that drives her. That and the strange need to help.

He tenses at first, like he’s waiting for the bomb to drop, the joke to land, only to pause. His eyes dart around for a moment, up and down the empty hall, before they eventually land on Brooke, then on their hands, still lightly tangled together. He doesn’t jump up, like she expects him to, he just sort of...Sits there, leaving Brooke with the distinct feeling that neither of them were really sure why she is still there.

Because, really, why is she there? They don’t know each other, they certainly aren’t friends. Before then, she couldn’t even say for certain that they had ever had a real conversation. She has no obligation to stay and chances were Jeremy doesn’t want her around, much less wants her _taking his hand_.

But then, right as she starts to plan her escape, she freezes and looks down to see Jeremy squeezing back. He isn’t smiling, not looking at Brooke at all, really, the only sign he gives is his fingers pressing tightly against her own, a small, silent thanks.

* * *

When Jeremy comes back to school the next day, it’s like nothing has changed. He comes in, sits down by Michael- that was his name, she’d checked- and immediately launches into a deep discussion on the newest Pokemon set and never once looks Brooke’s way. The only reminder that their exchange ever happened was the now deep purple-blue bruise that encircles his left eye.

It was like nothing had changed and, she guesses, nothing has. Not in a way that matters. They aren’t friends, barely acquaintances, there’s no reason for her to care anymore. He can move on and so should she. It doesn’t matter.

It’s doesn’t.

And yet- there’s an odd bubble in Brooke’s chest, one that says she did the right thing, no matter how little it shows. It makes her feel like there’s more to her for once than what all the others see. Like she wasn’t as shallow as they all thought, even if Jeremy Heere of all people was the only one who knew it.

Though, as she turns back toward her friends, away from Jeremy, away from the bubble, she thinks she might be okay with that.

* * *

It isn’t until later that day, as she’s ducking through the crowd, heading home, that she finally sees the difference.

He grabs her by the backpack, a light tug that directs her toward the lockers and away from the rush. She turns, hoping to see Jeremy, and instead finds herself faced with Michael Mell. His features are hardened, intense in a way she had only seen a handful of times, most of which had been directed at Rich or maybe Chloe. He isn’t unkind though, not angry, like she thought he would be. 

She watches as he bites his lower lip and pulls his hoodie closer around his arms. His mouth opens, snaps shut again. The logical side of her brain tells her to run, to get a head start before he well and truly kicks her ass for messing with his best friend’s head. But her feet stay firmly rooted to the ground, curious, despite the potential danger.

His mouth opens again and doesn’t shut this time. He stares at her for a second, studying her, scrutinizing every detail of her face.

After a moment- a terrible, heart pounding moment- he leans in close to her ear, his breath ruffling her hair, then, quiet as could be, he whispers, “ _thanks_.”

Michael backs away abruptly, seemingly just as surprised to have said it as Brooke is to hear it. He lets his shoulders drop slightly, and smiles, thumbs hooked on the straps of his backpack, before turning away and vanishing back into the crowd.

She doubts she’ll talk to Jeremy again soon, if ever, but that little bubble rises back in her chest and fills her up completely. Rich always tell them there’s no point in talking to people like them, like Jeremy, but right then, Brooke figures she’s pretty okay with it.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't really know where this came from to be honest, one second it didn't exist, the next it did. I'm not entirely happy with how this turned out, but I think it's cute, so whatever.  
> It's honestly a crime that we didn't get more of Brooke and Jeremy being friends. I've always thought they would be the type to have mall outings only to spend the entire time goofing off on the escalators until they get kicked out.  
> As for Michael, I've never seen him as a particularly angry guy, but I think that after Rich first started bothering him and Jeremy, he got a little nervous around that whole crowd. So Brooke suddenly doing a complete 180 and helping Jeremy out probably came out of nowhere for both them. Hence the grumpy thank you.  
> Anyway, leave a comment if you enjoyed or visit me on tumblr @pastthebutterflies! There's not much there yet, but I'm always down to chat!


End file.
